


Bride and Groom

by iskanderthebi



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Cowgirl Position, Cunnilingus, F/M, First Time, Porn with Feelings, They're both Verse, Vaginal Sex, semi-rough sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:21:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29898972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iskanderthebi/pseuds/iskanderthebi
Summary: “Of all those here in the church, you should know — what does the goddess say on the consummation of love?”
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Seteth
Comments: 4
Kudos: 54





	Bride and Groom

Garreg Mach was quiet, only the sounds of crickets and owls breaking the dark cover of night. As Byleth climbed the set of stairs, her own footsteps echoing back to her, she knew it was a different type of silence to when the monastery was abandoned during the war. That was the silence of fear. Now, the tired nation had finally let out its long, held breath. Nodding to a standing sentry, Byleth recognised the relief that the very stones of the monastery now embodied. The war was not kind, but the stones held.

Upon the second floor, she made her way to Seteth’s office, a small smile playing on her face as she fingered the wedding band on her hand. She wasn’t to lie and say the proposal was expected, although she knew her firm feelings for quite the long while, but it had been five days since and although their first, chaste kisses in the Goddess Tower led to more passionate ones against the walls, they had barely seen each other since. Her ring she kept covered by the long sleeves of her new archbishop robes, but her heart could not merely be blanketed over by the slight kisses they shared when passing one another in empty corridors. She once had been lost for five years. She was not to wait needlessly again.

Somewhere distant, a guard called out midnight. To no surprise, faint light glowed from beneath the door to Seteth’s office.

She knocked, gently, and heard a sigh from within.

“Come in.”

Byleth knew Seteth’s office well, from the late nights where she asked for his help with the student paperwork, to conversations, to supporting him when Flayn was kidnapped. As she pushed the door lightly shut behind her, leaning on its dark wood, she watched with a flutter in her stomach as Seteth looked up from his notes and his frown turned into a smile, for her. She wondered if it was because their relationship was so fresh, or because she still could not believe he reciprocated her own dedicated feelings.

“My love,” he said, in a hushed voice that fit in with the candle light. He reached out a hand that she readily came forward to take, their fingers locking together as easily as if they had done so for centuries.

With a gentle tug, he brought her knuckles to his lips and with a lovely, new type of heat in her middle, Byleth side stepped his table to stand behind him. At her rather meagre height, she stood not that much higher than Seteth sitting and, with a second kiss pressed against her skin, wrapped her other arm around him.

“Hello,” she murmured, vaguely catching the inventory reports he was checking. Nose against his hair, she breathed in his clean scent, of soap and flowers and parchment. She loved him so much she could burst.

“Good evening, dear,” said Seteth in response, ticking off something with his quill. “It is very late. What are you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Seteth chuckled, tugging on her hand. “The clean air helps me concentrate,” he said. “It’s a wonder what a cool breeze can do. That and the lack of noise, of course.”

“Really?” Byleth’s hand slid back, fingers burying in his emerald hair. “I just think you’re a hopeless workaholic.”

She swore a sigh left him as her nails scratched lightly against his scalp.

“Perhaps,” he said, from deep within his throat.

“Is it a saint thing?”

“Maybe.”

She allowed her fingers to run from the base of his neck upwards, brushing the curves of his ears. Freeing her other hand, she caressed the line of his jaw. He leaned into her with a quiet noise and she felt ready to melt into him.

“And you, my love?” he said, a tad breathless, placing down his quill.

As he tilted his head into her hand, Byleth lithely pressed a kiss against his neck.

“Nothing,” she murmured. “Just wanted to see you.” She paused. “Husband-to-be.”

In a deft movement, Byleth found herself now in front of Seteth, his chair pushed back, both his hands on her waist and his eyes looking at her so warmly as she hadn’t seen before.

“And you have me now,” he said, thumbs rubbing circles in the thin, white fabric of her dress. “Wife-to-be.”

Byleth sighed as he brought her close and kissed her. There was something about his kisses that she couldn’t get enough of. His lips were slow against hers, confident and warm, and his hand, as she found out, had the habit of settling on her cheek, tilting her into him, aligning their lips even closer. She ran her tongue across his bottom lip, wanting and giving equally, offering and taking as she hadn’t with anybody else.

At a telling touch, Byleth’s brain blew away enough fog to take the hint and sit on his lap, the chair not made for such and that left both of her legs hanging over an arm rest. Not particularly comfortable, but it brought them close and Seteth’s body was warm, so warm compared to her persistent coldness. She bathed in it like sunlight, instantly pressing herself against him, whimpering as he brought her back into a heated kiss.

A delicious haze again in her head, Byleth faintly noticed as Seteth’s hand wrapped itself tightly around her middle, fingers on the small of her back, pressing her just that bit tighter to him. She gasped and Seteth took the moment to lick into her mouth.

Clawing her fingers into his hair to demand him closer, Byleth shifted and sent a foot slamming loudly against the wood of Seteth’s desk.

The sudden sound made them jerk apart, breathless. Not yet letting go of one another, they both looked at the table, at the neat stack of papers that had fallen in a avalanche across.

“Whoops,” apologetically said Byleth, smiling, not feeling very sorry at all as Seteth’s hand kneaded at her hips. “I got a bit carried away.”

“No need for apologies. I’m afraid I am the one who got a bit, uh, enthusiastic.” A pink blush dusted his cheeks in a manner Byleth found most lovely. He looked away for a moment, as if embarrassed of his lack of composure, but she took his chin between her fingers and turned him back towards her.

“Then looks like neither one of us did anything wrong,” she all but purred, eagerly bringing their lips together. “Let’s move on, shall we?”

Curling her fingers back into his hair, Byleth kissed him, and sighed as his mouth trailed to her cheek, lower to her jaw.

“The truth of the matter is,” Byleth said, eyes fluttering shut as he pressed a wet kiss on her neck, “I came here with a purpose tonight. An important question to ask.”

“How devious,” he murmured against her skin, lips tracing her vein. “What was it?”

“Well, even before me, you were a trusted advisor of the archbishop alongside being a professor. Your knowledge and understanding of the church and the goddess are difficult to compete with.”

He chuckled. She could feel the curve of his smile above her collarbone, the light scratch of his beard.

“Go on.”

“And you — ah — your experience of history gives you a far better understanding of the goddess and her scriptures.”

His hand was cradling her jaw, tilting her head, his warmth sinking into her skin.

“Are you trying to seduce me with rhetoric?” he chuckled, nosing her ear, his voice lower than before.

“Don’t forget it was you who lectured me during your proposal,” breathlessly accused Byleth. “Is it working?”

His teeth brushed her ear. “Maybe.”

Byleth wished she was straddling him. The position was beginning to send a faint ache in her back, and the gentlemanly way Seteth kept her just off his pelvis was infuriating.

Avoiding him as he went to kiss her, Byleth took his cheeks in her hands.

“I really do have a question,” she said firmly, with a poor attempt at looking stern. One glance into his eyes, that stared back with desire, sent heat through her. “Will you listen?”

“Yes, your holiness.” His hands settled comfortably behind her back, and what could only have been a smirk played on his lips. “Ask away.”

“Of all those here in the church, you should know — what does the goddess say on the consummation of love?”

Byleth could practically see his pupils widen, his hold on her tensing. Before he could reply, she spoke up again.

“Specifically on the consummation of love before marriage.” Her face flushed, and the butterflies in her stomach threatened to explode. “I do not wish to disrespect the religion you believe in and I uphold.”

Seteth stared as if he saw her anew, saliva wet lips slightly parted, blush darkening on his face. His hands left her middle, their loss maddening to Byleth, and ran themselves through his hair.

“Goddess,” he groaned. “You shall be the death of me.”

He kissed her anew, with tongue and teeth, and Byleth gripped into the collar of his robes, moaning into his mouth. She felt his large hand on her neck, thumb nudging under her jaw, hot enough she could have sworn it left marks on her skin. All of her senses were overwhelmed with him, but it wasn’t enough. Her legs were aching from their position, and she would have rather the pain be coming from being on her knees.

She broke them apart with a gasp, chest heaving.

“Answer me.” She ran her thumb over his lips, that were swollen and soft, and slid her palm to his neck. “You asked me to marry you before you even kissed me. By asking, it means you must have wanted me. Have you not considered how long I’ve wanted you?”

Her fingers slipped, the tiniest bit, beneath his collar, not going further. Offering and asking.

Seteth swallowed, eyes flickering to the ceiling, barely gaining composure. “The goddess,” he began, and his voice was thick. “She does not actually speak particularly on the consummation of marriage, but instead on the importance in the showing of love in general. Her words were thus, that all love must be spoken of and acted on, that its potential loss is too dear a gamble to take. Though some of the priests force upon it an idea of chastity, in history’s reality, there is none.”

And of all reactions, Byleth smiled.

“You really are a horrendous professional, aren’t you?” she said tenderly, fingers deftly undoing the top button of his collar. “I cannot wait to have you for eternity.”

It was her turn now, and Seteth’s jagged breaths and gasps were the sweetest of sounds in her ears as she kissed his neck, suckling on the unblemished skin until it shone red. The next button came undone easily under her fingers, and then the next, and the next, until her hand splayed over his chest, over a thin undershirt beneath. Discovering he was a wyvern rider surprised her at first, but now she could feel it in the firmness of his muscles, in how broad his shoulders were.

Pressing a wet kiss under his ear, Byleth pulled back, swiftly undid the remaining few buttons of Seteth’s robe and, hooking her fingers into his belt, reached to unclasp her own cloak.

“No.” Seteth’s voice was little more than a husky croak, but he took Byleth’s wrists and pressed them to his chest. “No, not like this.”

Struggling to catch her breath, Byleth flushed looking at the bright red marks she had left over his exposed neck. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “Was I too much?”

“No, I —” He broke off, licked his bottom lip. “I don’t want it to be like this, in my office and in a chair. Not the first time.”

The muscles in Byleth’s stomach tightened. She bit her lower lip, a smile tugging at the edges.

“You want me in a bed, my love?” she asked, breath hitching as Seteth upturned her hand and kissed the centre of her palm.

“Yes.” He released her hands to take her chin and pressed a warm kiss on her mouth. “Call me old fashioned like that.”

Byleth chuckled and squirmed off him, a twinge in her legs as they finally straightened. She half heartedly tried to flatten down her hair into an aura of ordinality but her movements faltered at the sight of Seteth, still sitting, flushed and red lipped as he looked at her with desire. Something about seeing him so disheveled, his robes open and marks upon his skin, made her swallow down a whimper.

_Not the first time,_ he had said. No, they would have a lot of time to themselves.

She held out a hand. “Come,” she said. “Let’s go to my chambers.”

In the time it took Seteth to decriminalise his appearance, Byleth peered into the corridor. It was late enough, and nobody would question the archbishop, famed hero, of where and why she was wandering at night, but neither wanted unnecessary rumours either. Even their engagement had not yet been made public. With that in mind however, Byleth firmly ignored Seteth’s half hearted protests of putting her into an unseemly position should he be seen entering her room. She didn’t care enough about those sort of niceties, and her underwear was already uncomfortably damp.

Giving the sentry a polite nod, Byleth and Seteth made their calm way up the set of stairs.

“You know,” casually began Byleth, “I still don’t know if you have your own personal quarters in Garreg Mach.”

“Think I sleep in the chair in my office?”

Byleth grinned, peering quickly around the corner. “Well, you did have the reputation for being rather nocturnal among the students. They thought you either didn’t sleep at all, or, yes, slept right in that chair.”

The corridor was empty, torches on the wall casting flickering shadows across the stone. The metal handle to her chambers creaked under Byleth’s hand.

“Maybe I shall let you know one day.”

One foot inside her room, Byleth grabbed at Seteth’s collar, tugging him in and shut the door.

“You’d better,” she said and shoved him against the wall.

The archbishop’s chamber was not particularly fancy beyond its size and a new bed had been built for Byleth, for it was deemed incorrect to use Rhea’s on spiritual grounds. There was a nice window and an adjacent bath, but nothing else to mark its favourability — except that the rest of the floor was empty and upon Byleth’s stern instructions, all guards were displaced to the monastery’s main grounds to ensure no retaliation. Knowing that, Byleth moaned freely into Seteth’s mouth, fingers making quick work of the buttons along his front and undoing the ornate belt that held his robe. Impatiently she pulled his undershirt from his trousers, pressing the flat of her hand against his muscled torso.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” she breathed against his mouth, hand trailing up his hot skin, feeling his arousal hard against her stomach. “How long had you wanted this?”

“Too long.” His hands unfastened the clasp of her own fancy cloak, letting it drop into the floor, caressing her bare shoulders.

“Before the five years?” She rocked her hips into him, eating up Seteth’s jagged sigh. “Tell me.”

She undid the top of his pants, slid her hand beneath his small clothes, swallowing down her own moan as she finally took him in her hand.

“Yes,” he groaned, eyes fluttering shut as she began working her fingers over his cock, biting down on his lip. “But when I saw you again — I knew for certain.”

He was bigger than she expected and her own thighs rubbed impatiently together as she shoved his pants down his hips, damn near salivating at the way his cock fit against her palm. He was hot against her skin, throbbing at her touch. She smeared a bead of pre-cum from the tip with the flat of her thumb and Seteth moaned.

Byleth leaned closer, dragged her nose up to his ear. “How does it feel,” she whispered huskily, “to know you’ve made the archbishop go down on her knees for you?”

With the sound of her name on his lips, Byleth tugged her skirts and lowered herself to the floor. Slowly stroking him, she pressed an open mouthed kiss against his shaft, breathing in his scent. Peering upwards through her eyelashes, thrill went through her like a bolt of electricity as she saw his dark eyes fixated on her. One of his hands threaded through her hair, blunt fingernails catching against her scalp as she dragged her lips over the inside of his thighs.

“Byleth.” Seteth’s voice was little more than a choked whisper. “Please.”

Collecting saliva on her tongue, Byleth took his cock into her mouth, working her jaw to accommodate his size, one hand firmly continuing to stroke his shaft. She had fucked herself to the scenario before, more times than she was ever willing to admit, and her cunt ached as she hungrily swallowed around him. The hand on her head was giving only the lightest of pressure but she could hear his breathy sounds, the tremble as his other hand brushed the hair from her face.

She pulled off with a wet pop of her lips, breathing open mouthed, smearing her saliva over his cock with every stroke of her hand. She tried to shake her bangs out of her eyes and felt as her hair was carefully drawn back and wrapped around a hand that nudged her closer. Byleth couldn’t help the smirk that came over her face, looking Seteth in the eye as she parted her lips and slid him back into her mouth.

“Oh, goddess,” he let out, and half covered his mouth with a hand.

To the sound of his barely muffled gasps, Byleth built up a rhythm, pumping him with her hand where her mouth could not reach, not minding the faint ache in her jaw as her head bobbed over him. His nails scratched against her skull and she groaned, the sound reverberating against his cock and his thighs rocked into her, sending him deeper, making her breathe sharply through her nose. She gripped into his hips when he tried to pull away, hollowing out her cheeks as she quickened her pace, wet sounds from her mouth loud and obscene in the empty room.

But she could feel his composure breaking, his hips jerking into her more than holding back. Enthusiastically she took him as deep as she could, relaxing her throat until her lips were almost at the base of his cock, eyes rolling to the back of her head, a line of saliva dribbling down her chin. She pulled off with a gasp for air, pumping his cock with a quick flick of her wrist, pressing it against her cheek as she looked up. Her needy cunt throbbed at the sight of Seteth flushed and slack mouthed.

“Close?” she asked, licking her lips.

Seteth let go of her hair and raised her to her feet, pulled her close into a bruising kiss.

“On the bed,” he said into her mouth, taking her hands off him. “Against the pillows.”

Byleth obeyed willingly, licking the corner of Seteth’s mouth before hurrying over and climbing onto the plush mattress. She reached to take off her dress, but Seteth shook his head.

“I’ll do that.” He stripped out of his clothing, throwing the offending pieces onto the floor under Byleth’s hungry stare. “You asked me to tell you how I’ve wanted you? I can do better than that.”

He climbed over her, a knee on each side of her thighs, and ran his hands from her waist to her shoulders and then cupped her cheeks.

“I can show you, my love,” he said, and kissed her mouth.

“My dear,” he added, and kissed her neck.

“My light,” he finished, and kissed her collarbone.

Byleth curled her arms around his neck and leaned slightly to allow him to undo the back of her dress, her skin tingling as he began to pull the sleeves off her shoulders. He pressed kisses against the new skin, on her left shoulder and then her right. At her chest he stopped, thumbs rubbing circles into her arms.

“Tell me if—” he began, but Byleth shushed him.

“Please,” she murmured, splaying her fingers across his back. “Please, please.”

He pulled the dress over her chest and dragged his lips over the soft mounds of her breasts, pressing a wet kiss in the valley between them. At Byleth’s gentle sigh, he licked at her left nipple, ran the pad of his thumb across the other. Swirling his tongue around the stiff pink nub, he took it fully into his mouth, suckling and letting go with a wet sound. Byleth’s fingers threaded into his hair as she brought him closer, encouraged him to continue, until her chest was covered in light marks and both her nipples glistened with his saliva.

“So beautiful,” he told her ribs, tugging the dress to her stomach. “You rival all the beauty that has ever existed, my love.”

Byleth arched her back and the dress was rolled under her backside but Seteth did not stand to take it off her legs and continued his pattern of kissing and suckling over her stomach, nosing the old scars here and there. His hands cradled her waist, so large against her, hot over her skin, as he kissed a road from her navel and up to her clavicle.

“So beautiful and so strong.” Seteth rolled Byleth’s earlobe between his lips. “When I first saw you fight, I was frightened. You seemed so small, so easily overwhelmed. I realised quickly how wrong I was.”

He outlined the muscles of her torso, ran a finger down a long faded scar that vanished beneath the bundle of dress still at her hip.

“You fight like a warrior of old. You have honoured me in permitting to see you so.”

She was no stranger to sex, but the tender way Seteth was touching her, and the low, genuine timbre of his voice made Byleth flush with an unknown feeling. She was almost overwhelmed, even though they hadn’t even fucked yet, every nerve on end, wanting so badly she could have burst.

Seteth finally moved off her, taking her thighs in an arm and lifting slightly, tugging the dress further down. With every inch, he kissed at her skin, murmuring sweet things intermixed with her name. Once at her knees, the dress was taken off in a single pull and Seteth moved his hold, lips on her knees, a hand caressing her calf.

“So beautiful,” he said again at her ankle. “I adore you.”

It was too much. Byleth reached for him and he understood, as if they had known each other for a thousand years, and kissed her, allowing her to lick into his mouth, nails against his scalp.

“Please, Seteth.” She grasped at his hand and cupped it round her sex. “Please. _Please_.”

Byleth settled herself closer to the bed head as Seteth moved down her body and hooked his fingers into her smallclothes. He nosed at the damp fabric, breathing in her arousal, before taking them off in a quick tug. Breath caught in her throat, Byleth wound her fingers through Seteth’s emerald locks as he slid his hands around and manoeuvred her thighs lithely over his shoulders. Looking Byleth in the eye, Seteth slowly licked up her cunt.

All the kisses and words and touches had left her too needy and Byleth’s head fell back against the pillows as Seteth hungrily began lapping her up, nose against her clit, two fingers parting her lips. She had never been particularly loud in bed, for far too often the deed had little care behind it, but under Seteth’s devoted touch she felt herself crumble. Gasps were escaping her, eyes fluttering shut as he suckled on her clit, moaning from deep in his throat. The hands over her thighs kept her firmly on the mattress as she tried to buck under him, wanting more, craving more, grasping his hair so tightly she was certain it must have hurt him.

Her own desires and their teasing had left her more pent up than foreplay demanded, and as Seteth slightly changed his position, she felt a tightening in her stomach. Her hips tried to match the rhythm of his tongue inside her, back almost arching off the bed. Every movement of his jaw sent a scratch of his beard against her inner thighs like an added spark of a flame. One of his hands slid over her torso and began playing with a nipple.

Byleth cried out as she came, hips bucking into Seteth’s mouth as she pressed him closer, tongue inside her as she rode out the wave, a thumb rubbing circles at her swollen clit. The orgasm sent a shudder through her and her thighs tightened around Seteth’s head. It had been a long time since she came like that.

Her legs trembled as Seteth slowly gave her a few more broad licks of his tongue, kissing her venus mound as her thighs released him. Panting, Byleth watched him flick hair out of his eyes and wipe his glistening mouth with the back of his hand. Dark eyes looking at her, he licked the skin clean.

Byleth tugged him into a kiss, moaning as she tasted herself on his tongue.

“I want you,” she gasped, hand reaching low to wrap around his hard cock. “I want you inside me.”

Seteth dragged his teeth over her lower lip. “How do you want me?”

With a push to his shoulder, Byleth rolled them over, swinging her leg across his middle and leaning on his chest with both hands. She rolled her hips so that her wet pussy slid across his shaft, watching with smug satisfaction as his face flushed with pleasure. She did it again, hands exploring his broad chest, thumbs rubbing his nipples.

“I dreamt of this,” she sighed, relishing in the heat of his hands on her hips. “I dreamt of fucking you, back when I was just a teacher. I would go into your office and see those sofas and imagine you taking me in one of them, or going on my knees for you.”

She took his cock in her hand, rocking her cunt against it, a light brush against her sensitive clit making her thighs tremble.

“And now I love you,” she said, lifting her hips, aligning the tip to her entrance. “And I only want you more.”

Seteth’s hold tightened against her waist as she slowly lowered herself onto him, gasping as she squirmed to adjust to his size. She was wet enough that he filled her perfectly and bit down on her bottom lip as she rolled her hips. She moaned. Not one of her dreams ever made it feel that good.

Hands balancing on his shoulders, Byleth began building a rhythm, lifting herself off marginally before coming back down on his cock, sighs and gasps falling out of her mouth. Seteth was restraining himself beneath her, his hands sliding to her ass and rocking her into him. Every shift sent pleasure like fire through their bodies. Byleth wouldn’t have cared if a monk had walked into the room at that very moment. She had not lived until such love.

The wet sound of flesh against flesh built up in the empty room as Byleth began riding Seteth faster. The niceties had been shared enough for both of them. His hands kneaded at her ass, gripping her hard enough she knew would leave marks. She leaned in close to him, pressing her breasts against his chest, fingers working into his hair, lips by his ear.

“Cichol,” she whispered.

The name made Seteth buck against her, sending him deeper in a way that made them both gasp.

“Say that again,” he choked out.

“Cichol.” Byleth parted his hair, kissed the lobe of his pointed ear. “Cichol, my love.”

His hands were under her, lifting her thighs and ramming into her. His thrusts became quicker, deeper, until Byleth was seeing stars with every smack of his hips against hers.

“Say it again.”

Byleth’s stomach was tightening with heat. She tilted her neck and ran her teeth over the tip of his ear.

“Cichol.”

Seteth rolled them over, knocking the breath out of Byleth, his heavy weight making her keen under him.

“Again.”

“Cichol.”

He kissed her, briefly, with a painful clack of their teeth, and pulled out. Byleth whined, leaning up on her elbows and preparing an apology, when he instead hooked an arm under her knee and lifted her leg. With a creak of the bed he repositioned himself, shaking hair out of his eyes, and thrust into her to the hilt. Byleth flung her head back, pale hair around her, reaching back to hold onto the headboard as Seteth fucked her. The position quickly made her leg sore, but his cock was filling her to the brim, each thrust making her toes curl.

Byleth felt ready to blackout when she watched Seteth spit on his fingers and begin rubbing at her clit. She was close. She could feel the heat pool at the bottom of her stomach. His fingers and his cock overwhelmed all her senses. She was coming undone like she never had before.

Feeling the telltale rise of an orgasm, she reached for him, grabbed the hand that was at her clit and brought it to her mouth, licked his slick fingers.

“I’m close,” she gasped. “Seteth, I’m—”

He leaned to her, bending her leg against her torso, open mouthed.

“Come for me, Byleth.” He pulled back his hand, ran it over her tits, pressed it against her stomach. “I want to feel you come. You’re so good around me.”

It didn’t need much more. The orgasm forced a whiny out of her mouth, eyes rolling back as Seteth continued to rock into her, speeding up, gasping himself as Byleth clenched around him. She felt electrified, overwhelmed and sensitive, and as Seteth’s breath caught in his throat, she grabbed at his waist to hold him in position, moaning as he spilled inside her. Their hips rolled into one another a couple more times before their heavy breathing took over and the smell of sex hovered in the air.

Byleth sighed as Seteth pulled out, pressing a kiss against her cheek before lying heavily down next to her, chest heaving.

“My,” was all Byleth could really muster, an odd mixture of embarrassment and satisfaction flushing her face at the feeling of his cum trickling out of her cunt. “That was nice.”

Seteth recovered faster than she and, leaning on an elbow, pressed his lips against her shoulder.

“Pardon if I got too enthusiastic.” He caressed her face, tucking damp hairs behind her ear. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Byleth smiled. Her thighs and back and legs felt sore and she adored it. If this was what Seteth meant by having her in a bed, she could only wait in excitement for what was to come outside of the bedroom.

“You were perfect,” she said instead, entwining their fingers. “You’ve made me very happy, husband-to-be.”

He chuckled, kissing her knuckles. “I am glad, wife-to-be.”

Byleth, though she loathed to admit it, was more than ready to sleep, and after several sweet interchanges, grumbled as Seteth went to stand.

“Stay here,” she mumbled with a pout.

“Let me just grab a towel, I shall not be a moment.”

She wasn’t happy about it, but allowed it after he kissed her and, feeling rather idle without Seteth’s delicious weight in her arms, rolled over to her side to watch him instead. His height and strength made him well proportioned, a beauty that his robes hid far too efficiently for Byleth’s liking. Her eyes took him in from shoulder to the line of his back, to the curve of his backside. Under the warm firelight, his skin was smooth and his muscles lean. Only nail and kiss marks marred his body.

“You have no scars,” she said suddenly.

Dipping a towel into the basin of water, Seteth hummed. “Enough time heals even the deepest of wounds,” he said. “It is not to say I have not had my fair share of battles, but also a fair share of time on my side.”

He turned, damp towel in hand, unashamed in his nudity, and made no move towards the bed. He stared at Byleth, and she stared back, chin on a propped up hand, ankles crossed over one another.

“What?” she asked.

Seteth shook his head, but smiled. “There are faults with immortality,” he said quietly. “One of those is that one’s memory is as clear and bright as if all events had ever happened on the same day. Loss and pain never leave, but neither does happiness. I look at you now, my love, to ensure I remember you like this, forever and ever.”

Byleth smiled back and extended a hand. “Come,” she coaxed. “Lay with me again, my love. We shall have time to stare.”

She sat up as Seteth settled back onto the bed, the lust previously in his green eyes changed into adoration. She allowed him to clean her, to run his fingers apologetically across the marks around her waist, press light kisses at her knee where a bruise was beginning to form. Beside him, she was rough and sharp edged, and the soft hands that that touched her did not match her own. She was a child of war and softness did not become her, and yet she loved him with all she knew.

She took his left hand in hers, pressing the pads of their fingers together. The stones in their wedding bands glistened.

“Can I not marry us now?” she murmured. “I am the archbishop after all.”

Seteth chuckled and kissed the corner of her mouth.

“Not just yet,” he said, but quickly spoke again at Byleth’s look of disagreement. “It does not mean we must be frugal with one another until then. But a public marriage would be too unsettling in such times as of yet. We must be patient, my love, but the time will be soon.”

Byleth looked at the rings on their fingers, knowing inside that the official wait meant little, but she never was one to care for protocols. With a smile, she brought their entwined hands together and pressed her lips against Seteth’s fingers, before slipping the hand free and curling it around his neck.

“As long as I have you,” she said, “I do not mind.”

**Author's Note:**

> once my sexy anime husband becomes real and has luscious sex with me its over for you hoes


End file.
